


the maiden

by kawx



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, King Roman, M/M, Medieval AU, Servant Finn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawx/pseuds/kawx
Summary: King Roman could have anyone in his kingdom. But who does Roman want?Finn Balor, the servant boy.





	1. of all men fairest to behold

**Author's Note:**

> hello! It’s been long time no see, but I’ve been really busy with school. That being said, after Monday, I’m totally finished and free! My other fics will be updated then, but for the time being, here’s this that got inspired by those pictures of Roman, Seth and Aleister at the Game of Thrones thing. I don’t watch GoT so this is pretty much out of my own mind. 
> 
> Some notes to bear in mind: Roman refers to Finn as boy a lot, but he assured that Finn is of age and there’s just an age difference between the two (Roman is his normal age of 33, whereas Finn is in his 20s.) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and pleaaaaase let me know! twitter @psychrollins tumblr @baloreignz

Soft music plays in the hall as King Roman sips wine and watches over the highest subjects in his kingdom, all of them feasting on the food he provided, drinking his wine and listening to his band play. 

  
  


The Queen sits next to him, her gaze upon their subjects as she too sips wine. Charlotte is beautiful. Her long blonde hair frames her face, and the gold and jewels that adorn her dress and neck compliment her skin and eyes and twinkle in the candle light. He loves her, but the same way he loves his sister back in his homeland. It was a marriage of convenience, the Flair family needed a powerful man to marry their daughter, to keep the Flair’s on the throne, and the Reign’s family are powerful fighters. The Flair’s knew that a union between Charlotte and Roman would provide a strong King and Queen, with Roman’s powerful connections and Charlotte’s iconic name. 

  
  


They’ve been married for a year, and Roman has enjoyed their marriage so far. They both know that they don’t want each other, that they don’t love each other. They were honest from the start, neither of them liked the opposite sex, they liked their own, and together they put on a front of an extremely happily married monarchy while behind the safety of the castle walls, Roman and Charlotte pleasure themselves with many men and women that aren’t each other. 

  
  


Charlotte has a long standing arrangement with the daughters of her fathers friends. Becky and Bayley are equally as beautiful as Charlotte, Bayley being a practiced seamstress making all of Charlotte’s beautiful gowns, and Becky knowing her way around a bow and arrow and advising both Charlotte and Roman on military issues, though Roman doesn’t tell his soldiers where some of his ideas come from. 

  
  


Roman, however, has no long standing arrangements. He fucks whatever soldier is willing to get on their knees for him, their shame keeps their mouth shut, and anyone who dare whisper anything against the King’s name is never believed anyway, and Roman makes sure to deal with it, too. Lately, though, Roman has had his eye on one of the new servant boys. 

  
  


He watches him as he chews absentmindedly on a piece of bread. The boy is young, but not too young, and he’s got a pretty face and facial hair around his sharp jaw. His blouse is open at the front and shows off a mile of mouth watering pale skin. Roman really wants to get his mouth on it. 

  
  


The servant works well into the night, pouring wine and beer, bringing out more food and emptying tables of finished meat carcasses. Roman watches him the whole time, even Charlotte notices him. 

  
  


“You still want to sleep with the help, Roman?” She says, her voice quiet as she takes his hand in hers. He lets her, running his fingers over the palm of her hand. “My king you could have anyone, yet you take a fancy to the servants.” 

  
  


“The rest of them, they hold too much arrogance. Even my soldiers, they bow to me but they do not possess what I need. Submission.” 

  
  


Charlotte laughs softly with a shake of her head and she doesn’t push it. They don’t question the others tastes, not really, Roman is very fond of Becky and Bayley, and although Roman doesn’t have someone like them, she makes sure Roman has his time with whoever he finds to satisfy him. 

  
  


It’s well into the night when the party dies down, when the jesters have stopped their jokes, and the band have drank too much wine to play coherently. Charlotte retreats with a kiss to his cheek, and Roman doesn’t miss how a moment later Becky and Bayley are leaving their table. 

  
  


The servant boy is clearing away, pouring the last drops of wine for those who grab at him and demand it. He calls over his most trusted guard, Karl, eyes still trained on the servant. 

  
  


“What do you know about the boy?” 

  
  


Karl follows where Roman’s wine glass tips to point at the servant. 

  
  


“That’s Finn. Got here last week, your Grace. He’s not a local, came over from Ireland. He ran away from home, of all accounts, sir. One of the soldiers found him and brought him in.” 

  
  


Roman hums in interest, an Irish boy far from home. Hopefully he’s just what Roman needs, needy and desperate for attention, ready to submit to the King. 

  
  


“Send him to my quarters when he’s done.” 

  
  


“Yes your Grace.” Karl smirks, because he knows, and Roman lets it slide because he knows about Karl too. Roman’s departure is announced and the last of his subjects bow as he leaves. But Roman isn’t paying attention to them, he’s thinking about the servant boy,  _ Finn,  _ and his pretty pale skin, how he wants to bite it and have him on his knees in front of him. 

  
  


In Roman’s private room he strips himself of his fur and his surcoat, laying his sword and belt on the bed, leaving him in his undershirt, trousers and boots. There’s a knock at his door and he calls for them to come in. Karl opens the door, and beside him is the servant boy, looking nervous as he chews on his lip. 

  
  


“Shout if you need anything, sir.” Karl says, and he nudges the boy into the room. He stumbles and looks back at Karl like his lifeline is walking out of the room. Roman laughs softly and he takes a step closer to the boy. 

  
  


“Remind me of your name, boy.” 

  
  


“Finn, your Grace. Finn Balor.” 

  
  


“I hear you are not from here?” 

  
  


“No, your Grace. Ireland. I… I fled.” 

  
  


“And my guards bought you in?” Roman asks. The boy, Finn, is looking up at him, like he can’t take his eyes off him. He’s beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. With bright blue eyes and soft looking pink lips. 

  
  


“Yes your Grace, I was exhausted and alone. They helped me.” 

  
  


Roman hums, grateful that Karl, Luke and the others are men with good hearts and saw someone in need and bought them in. 

  
  


“And you fled because? I hope you are not bringing trouble to my kingdom.” 

  
  


Finn shakes his head quickly, “No, sir. I… family trouble. They would not care that I was gone.” 

  
  


Roman can’t understand how anyone could want someone so beautiful gone from their life, how they would not notice he was gone. He takes in more of Finn. His long eyelashes, his slim, tight body. 

  
  


“Permission to speak freely, your Grace?” Finn’s voice is quiet and questioning and it makes Roman smile in amusement. 

  
  


“Granted.” 

  
  


“Why am I here? Have I done something wrong?” 

  
  


Roman laughs softly and steps even closer to Finn, and the boys eyes go wide and it looks like he wants to take a step back but he’s too scared. 

  
  


“You caught my eye, sweetheart.” 

  
  


“I don’t…” 

  
  


Roman stops him talking by running his thumb across his lips. They are soft, so soft, and so plump against the pad of his thumb and he really wants to kiss him. Feel his lips against his own. 

  
  


“I want you.” 

  
  


Finn stutters, eyes wide, and he blinks before he speaks. “Your Grace, the Queen…” 

  
  


“Doesn’t matter. We, understand each other, sweetheart.” Roman cups his cheek, feeling the smooth skin of his cheek against his fingers, and if he trails his little finger down his neck, he can feel his quickened pulse. He leans in, fully intending to feel those soft lips against his own. 

  
  


Roman feels the slap rather than see it coming. The sting spreads across his cheek, rocking him slightly on his feet with the force of it. It stuns him, and Finn looks visibly shaken by his actions. It’s in a split second that he’s gone, stumbling to open the door and sprint away. 

  
  


Roman has never been rejected before, let alone so violently, and he stares dumbly at his open door. Karl peers around the door, eyebrow raised in concern. 

  
  


“I take it that didn’t go so well, sir?” 

  
  


The King feels embarrassment for the first time in a long time, probably since his father disciplined him in front of the whole clan back when he was a child, whipping his bare ass in front of his family. 

  
  


“Do I need to find him, get rid of him?” 

  
  


Roman shakes his head. “Make sure he keeps his mouth shut, but that will be all.” He says, and he turns away. His skin crawls with embarrassment and the heat of shame licks through him as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes. Karl won’t be coming back tonight, he’s dismissed him, and his guard will probably be thankful that he’s got an easy night, no standing outside of Roman’s quarters hearing the sounds of pleasure until Roman was satisfied. 

  
  


He relaxes into his bed, the soft furs and silk sheets feeling good against his skin. It’s been cold lately, and bringing back furs from hunts had made him endlessly happy, taking him back to his childhood where his mother would wrap him up in furs to keep him from feeling the chill of the air. 

  
  


Sleep does not come easy to the King, and he thinks about the pretty servant boy more than he should. It’s stupid, and pointless, he shouldn’t be hung up on anyone, he’s the  _ King _ , but for some reason the boy is stuck in Roman’s mind. He needs him. 

  
  


After a restless night Roman joins Charlotte for breakfast. She is smiling and bright as she is served fruit and bread, drinking her wine. Roman can feel the mood he is in, knows it’s from what happened last night, and when he sees the boy, Finn, entering the room to serve others at the table, he can’t take his eyes off of him. He doesn’t know what it is about him that is so mesmerising, maybe it’s his eyes, his lips, all that Roman knows is that for a peasant boy, he commands his attention. 

  
  


“My king you are staring.” Charlotte says quietly as he picks grapes from the vine. 

  
  


He looks to her, and she has a smirk over her lips and Roman scowls. 

  
  


“I’m observing, dear.” 

  
  


“He said no, didn’t he?” 

  
  


Roman tears into a piece of bread, laying cheese and fruit onto it before shoving it into his mouth. Finn has left the room again, so Roman focuses back on his food and his wife. He doesn’t want to speak about it, he still feels humiliated. 

  
  


“There was no, no, it just did not go the way I planned.” 

  
  


“And so you are going to brood until it does?” 

  
  


Roman scoffs as he washes down his mouthful. “You know me so well, my queen.” 

  
  


Charlotte smiles and lifts her cup for more wine. To his disdain, Finn is the one to come over and fill it up. Roman’s eyes slide over him, and he meets the boys when they look up and give him a nod and a bow of respect before he’s scurrying to the kitchen. 

  
  


“You are hopeless, Roman. I have said before that you could have anyone, and yet you choose those who are not worthy.” Her words are soft but they could cut like knives with how harsh they are. Roman knows the social order, he always has since he was a boy in his clan, and after being at the top of it for a year now, Roman has learnt that while there are peasants, some are very worthy peasants. 

  
  


He doesn’t respond, and he eats the rest of his breakfast in silence. The few times that Finn comes back into the room Roman watches him, how he bends over to clean. When Roman feels blood start to rush south he excuses himself to get ready for his hunt in the woods. 

  
  


Roman doesn’t know why Finn turned him down, or why he slapped him instead of declining politely, but he does know that one day he’s going to get Finn Balor exactly where he wants him. 


	2. light and lust are like deadly enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the wonderful feedback on this chapter! I hope you all enjoy what’s coming next, smut, probably my longest yet, ooops! I got a bit carried away. 
> 
> so a **WARNING** for explicit sexual content, and for mentions of rape. the word isn’t used, and there’s no detail, but it’s eluded to. 
> 
> come find me on my tumblr @baloreignz or on my twitter @psychrollins

The King watches Finn whenever he is in the room. It’s usually in the evening, when Roman is back from a hunt or having been meeting with lesser leaders than he, and he’s eating the dinner that Finn brings out from the kitchen.

  
  


It reminds him of when he was courting Seth. Seth was his, old flame, from when he was with his family in his clan. Seth had been found as a boy, shivering and alone in the forest. His father had found him and brought him back to the camp, his mother patching up his wounds and dressing him in their tunics. They were Roman’s, and they hung off of his skinny frame. He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened to him, why he was alone and so frail, and nobody in the family pushed him either.

  
  


He grew close to Seth, they were similar in many ways, and Seth liked the attention that Roman gave him, and one night they moved from the friendly cuddling they’d always done in the safety of their tepee to Seth seating himself in Roman’s lap and on his cock riding him for all he was worth. They didn’t talk about it, but they slipped into an easy courtship, and Roman’s family were pleased that he would have someone by his side when he eventually took over the clan. Roman liked watching Seth once he was allowed to, once it wouldn’t look strange to be staring at his friend. Seth was graceful in everything he did, and he’d got meat on his bones once Roman’s mother had been feeding him up.

  
  


But then Roman was told he had to marry Charlotte, that it would be good for the family, for him, and for their land. Seth cried the night Roman left, and he told Roman that he loved him. That he would wait for him to come home, no matter how long it took or who he was wedded to. Roman had kissed him, drew him close to his body, and promised him he would come home to him.

  
  


After a year of being married to Charlotte, Roman has felt his love for Seth dissipate rather than strengthen. He doesn’t think about him often, only on the chance that something reminds him of him. Like now, the way that Finn is moving, fluid like a serpent, the way he bends, more erotic than anything Roman’s ever seen, and the way he smiles, brighter than all the stars combined.

  
  


Roman wants. He wants him desperately, and despite the slap he’d received only days prior, it only makes him want him more. He thinks about how he can punish him for daring to slap the King, thinks about how the crack of his belt against what Roman can only imagine is the soft, plump skin of his ass would sound like. How his small delicate hands would look bound to the golden posts on Roman’s bed, his body spread for him, ready for the taking.

  
  


Sipping his wine, Roman watches as one of his soldiers slides his hands up one of Finn’s legs, sliding up the curve of his thigh to the swell of his ass as he puts down plates of bread and pours beer and wine into their cups. Finn lets him do it, smiles through it, even, and it makes Roman mad and turned on in equal measures. He wants Finn to turn around and slap them, like he did to him, but he doesn’t, he just finishes what he’s supposed to do before slipping effortlessly out of their grasp and moving back to the kitchen.

  
  


“Something has angered you?” Charlotte’s voice comes from beside him, and she once again reached out her hand for him to take. Despite their marriage only being for convenience, and there being no real courtship between them, Roman enjoys the comfort of someone he has become to care about deeply. He strokes her hand, eyes flicking around the room now that Finn is out of sight.

  
  


“It is nothing, dear.”

  
  


“Is it the servant boy again?”

  
  


Roman can’t help but laugh, his observant wife knowing him too well.

  
  


“Maybe you should focus your attention on someone else, there is no need to get worked up over someone like that.” She says before tipping her head towards one of the jesters who is at the far end of one of the long dining tables. “He has been staring at you all evening, why don’t you take your frustrations out on him? I’m sure he will be more than willing.”

  
  


Roman let’s his eyes settle on the jester. He’s pretty, with tan skin and cropped hair, a smattering of facial hair, and soft looking lips. Roman considers it, the man is pretty and he knows that he could bend him over his bed and have his way with him, be satisfied at the end of it. But then his favourite servant boy is coming back from the kitchens with more wine, and he makes his way over to the King and Queen, he fills their cups, bowing before he leaves, and Roman forgets all about the jester at the dinner table. How could he sleep with someone else who pales in comparison to the beauty that is the servant boy?

  
  


It’s a long night, his guests drink copious amounts of wine and eat the food he and his men hunted from the forest, and they dance and laugh until they slowly trickle out of the dining hall and to their rooms or out of the castle and into the royal grounds where they live.

  
  


Roman doesn’t leave the dining hall this time, he stays long after Charlotte takes her leave, and long after the rest of the guests have gone. The jester has gone too, though he had stayed around longer than most, and Roman knows that he was waiting for the King to make a move, but Roman didn’t want to, Finn was too much of a prize to waste his time on anyone else.

  
  


When everyone has gone, Roman stands and saunters towards the kitchen area. Most of the servants are gone, the cooks having left to let the others clean up, and most are in the dining hall.

  
  


“Out, all of you but him.” Roman demands, nodding his head towards Finn. The others scurry out, bowing as they pass him. Finn looks worried, keeps his head down as he bows to Roman.

  
  


“Your Grace,” He says, and then he looks up at Roman, gasping when he realises that the King has stepped close to him, and Roman relishes it, the softness of it and how there’s a hint of his accent there.

  
  


“You’re not going to strike me again, are you?” Roman smirks, and he moves closer to Finn, backing him against the large table where the cooks prepare the food.

  
  


Finn swallows, gasping again when he stumbles into the table, looking up at the King. “I’m sorry, your Grace… I didn’t…”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


Finn swallows again, and Roman can see how he works his answer out in his head. He stays quiet, the silent permission to allow him to speak freely.

  
  


“I might, I might be a servant, your Grace, but I offer myself to no one to get ahead.”

  
  


Roman laughs and he leans down so he’s in Finn’s space, he could kiss him if he moved some more.  But he remembers how that went last time.

  
  


“You think I was asking for your body as payment for what, a different role here in my castle?”

  
  


Finn gawks at him, and then he nods, blushing.

  
  


“Sweetheart, I wanted to kiss you because you’re beautiful, not because I was going to make you earn another job.”

  
  


“You… you think I’m beautiful?”

  
  


Roman nods, and he presses the servant boy against the table, feeling a slim, lithe body against his own. “I think you might just be the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

  
  


Finn blushes deeper, and Roman leans so close he can feel the short, warm breaths coming from Finn’s mouth. “I…”

  
  


Roman brushes his lips against Finn’s and they’re so soft, so plump, and even though he wants nothing more than to kiss Finn hard and have his way with him, he wants Finn to want him too. He doesn’t want to force him into this, he likes his partners to want to sleep with him. When Roman pulls away, he sees the flash of want and need in Finn’s beautiful eyes. It makes his belly curl with need, blood rushing to his cock, but he has enough discipline not to dive back in for a real taste.

  
  


“One of my soldiers touched you, earlier. Did you like that?”

  
  


Finn looks like he wants to chase Roman’s lips, eyes blinking and unfocused as he tries to process Roman’s words. He shakes his head.

  
  


“No? If you let me, I can make sure no one touches you again.”

  
  


Finn bites his lip, there seem to be words on his tongue that he can’t get out. Roman smirks again, letting his fingers reach out and stroke through Finn’s beard, a stray one tracing over those pretty lips. “No one but me.”

  
  


Finn nods, then, and he daringly darts his tongue out to swipe at the tip of Roman’s finger. The warmth and wetness has Roman hissing, like he’s been burned, feels like to time he branded himself with the hot poker to prove to his father that he was the strongest in their clan. How he let the metal sizzle and sear at his skin, how he endured the smell of burning flesh because he was addicted to feeling like he was untouchable. Right now he’s addicted to the back and forth power trip, how one second Finn is looking at him like he needs to be led, controlled and taken care of, and the next, he’s bold and brazen and leading the little dance they’re locked in.

  
  


“You drive me crazy.” Roman says, and he normally does not let anyone know when he is weak, his father never allowed him to be weak. Even the night before he left home, he did not cry, he did not say he was sad. He stayed strong, even though the thought of leaving his home made him feel like his world was being ripped apart, he stayed strong for everyone else. But now he is here, touching a servant with powerful hands, feeling weak and showing it. Roman is in trouble, and he knows it, but he can’t do anything about it. He pulls away, taking a deep breath to control himself. He’s half hard in his tights, and he’s lucky his surcoat is just long enough to cover him.

  
  


“Have a good night, sweetheart.”

  
  


Roman leaves the kitchen, his mind full of nothing but the servant boy, picturing him naked and spread for him, red welts on his pale ass, a tight puckered hole. He touches himself when he finally gets back to his room, and thinking of Finn, he comes quickly into his own fist.

  
  


In the passing days, a dirty dance begins between the two of them. Finn seems bolder, now he knows Roman’s intentions are simply sex, rather than sex as payment. The servant boy lets his body do the talking, slinking around the room while Roman is watching, bending over and teasing him with that pretty ass and those devilish legs at every opportunity. At one point, while Roman is out on his horse taking a walk just outside of the castle, he catches Finn down by the river. He’s swimming, moving fluidly in the water, and all Roman can think of is how the boy is naked under the water, and how he would look stepping out. Droplets cascading down his pale skin, lightly goose pimpled from the cool breeze. He’s pulled away by a pressing matter inside the castle before he can see that, though, but he spends the rest of the day thinking about it before he gets to put his hands on himself late at night.

  
  


It takes about a week or so for Finn to break, and Roman had started to think he never would. But he’s just gotten to his quarters, having missed the serving of dinner because of a traitor he’d had to take care of. He’d eaten what a servant had brought down to him, but he’d been disappointed because the servant was not Finn.

  
  


There’s a knock at the door, and Roman strips off his furs and surcoat as Karl lets him know that it’s him from the other side of the door. Roman calls him in, and he’s half surprised to see Finn standing next to him, eyes cast down as he plays with his fingers and bites his lip.

  
  


“The servant would like to talk to you, Your Grace.”

  
  


Roman smirks and crooks a finger to beckon him into the room. Karl nudges Finn so he stumbles in, and Roman suddenly feels like he’s hungry again, but not hungry for food, this time. “Why don’t you take a long walk, Karl, maybe take the evening to yourself.” Roman says. Karl has been good to him today, weeding out the traitor that was among them, standing next to him through it all, disposing of the problem. Roman thinks he should be spared of the noise Roman hopes he’s going to make.

  
  


“Thank you, your Grace. I won’t be too far.” Karl bows and leaves, closing the door. Roman bolts it, needing too now Karl is not outside of it, and the moment it does, Roman feels the thick tension settle in the room.

  
  


“So, sweetheart, tell me, why are you here?”

  
  


Finn swallows before he speaks. “I spoke to Karl your Grace, and he told me that you’d had to deal with a traitor. That you’d had a long day. I thought maybe… maybe you’d like me to help you relax.” The last part is whispered softly, like he’s scared to say the words, and his eyes flick down to the floor. Roman feels something run through him, the idea of Finn noticing his absence, seeking out Karl, making him bring him here, it gets Roman hot. Finn wants him, maybe as much as Roman wants him in return. The slap to begin with was worth this feeling now.

  
  


“You missed me at dinner, sweetheart?” Roman tucks his fingers under Finn’s chin and lifts his face up to look at him. Those pretty blue eyes are shining, pupils big with need. He nods, and he plays with his fingers like he’s stopping them from reaching out. Roman appreciates the submission, the servant boy knowing to hold himself back until Roman tells him what to do. It’s what Roman craves.

  
  


“And what, found out I’d had a long day dealing with a traitor, someone who should obey me, and decided that I should be shown what it’s like to be truly served?” Roman’s voice is low, incredibly so, and he dips his face so he’s closer to Finn, their noses almost touching. He can feel his short, laboured breaths, can feel Finn’s jaw move in his fingers as he swallows, Roman’s words settling into him.

  
  


“Yes, your Grace.” He whispers. “I want to serve you. I am yours, do what you please.” Those words, they’re like explosions. Each one a canon, destroying the little self control Roman had been harbouring while waiting for Finn to want him.

  
  


“Does that mean I can kiss you now, without you striking me?”

  
  


Finn swallows again, maybe stopping a moan, or a whimper, and Roman wants so much more. “Yes… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

  
  


“Shhh, darling, I know. You’ll serve me for pleasure but not for payment… I understand.” Roman says softly, and he curls his hand around the back of his neck, gripping much less softly than his words. When Roman kisses him, it’s like a thousand of his wishes come true. Those lips, so soft and plump, wet from Roman’s tongue, they sing to his soul. He licks into his mouth, devouring him. Finn can only follow, helpless against the grip Roman has on him. The deeper the kiss gets, the bolder Finn becomes. His tongue chasing Roman’s, and his hands come up to squeeze the King’s biceps.

  
  


“I’m still going to have to punish you, sweetheart, for putting your hands on the King.” Roman says against his mouth, and he takes pleasure in the way Finn’s face contorts in both fear and need, like they’re interchangeable in this very moment. “Do you trust me?”

  
  


Finn nods, “Yes, your Grace.”

  
  


“Then why don’t you take off your clothes for me, stand by the bed with your hands behind your back, once you’re done.”

  
  


Finn bows to him before starting to undress, and Roman tears his eyes away so he can go into his adjacent wash room, collecting his olive oil and the long strips of silk he’d been gifted by Charlotte’s father, woven with gold and bright reds, they’ll look perfect around Finn’s wrists.

  
  


Seeing Finn naked for the first time is glorious. He’s doing exactly what Roman asked of him, stood next to the bed with his hands behind his back, waiting for Roman. He’s so pretty, and hairless and it makes Roman’s mouth water. He’s well defined, and toned, and he looks after himself, it’s so clear to Roman that this boy is everything he’s wanted and needed for a long time.

  
  


“You are a sight to behold.” Roman says, and he takes Finn back into his arms and pulls him close so he can kiss him again. Feeling his tight, naked body against his makes Roman dizzy, the intoxicating taste of his mouth and the warmth of his skin, his now dark eyes illuminated by the candlelight.

  
  


“I’m ready for my punishment, sir.”

  
  


Roman moans at the words, and he turns Finn around, bending him down over his bed. He appreciates the swell of his ass, and the pristine skin against the fur draped over Roman’s bed. He tugs Finn’s hands behind his back, crossing them at the wrists as he weaves the silk around them, tying it in a knot. It’s tight enough to stay together, but not too tight that it’s going to rub and hurt Finn. If he makes him hurt it will be with his hands, not for no reason. He strips himself of his own shirt, feeling himself growing warm, sweat beading at his neck.

  
  


He runs a hand over a smooth cheek of Finn’s ass, watching how the boy jumps a little before relaxing into the bed, legs spreading invitingly. Roman swings three slaps down onto the skin, hearing them crack loud in the room, mixing with the boys startled cry. It’s music to Roman’s ears, and how he wishes the band could play it all night at dinner. The sound of skin slapping skin, and the servants aroused cry playing out to all his guests as they feast.

  
  


Redness blooms on Finn’s skin, in the shape of Roman’s large hand, and it’s the closest thing to a branding he could get without heating up a poker on the fire and searing it into his skin. He does it again on Finn’s other asscheek, seeing the identical red hand print bloom bright, and Finn cries out again before he’s squirming against the bed, hands tugging at the silky binds around his wrists. The sight of Finn is nothing short of the most beautiful thing Roman’s ever seen. Maybe this is what you see when you enter the gates at Heaven. Maybe it’s what you see at the gates of Hell, but in a way that says you’ll never get to feel this. And goodness, Roman would tear down the gates of Heaven just to get to this.

  
  


While admiring the view, Roman must have stopped his ministrations, because Finn is whimpering and grinding against the bed, pushing back into the hand that has stilled on his warm skin. Roman chuckles lightly, rubbing both hands over his ass and squeezing the skin between his palms, spreading them just enough to reveal the tight, pink puckered hole between them. He presses a thumb against it, testing, teasing, and he’s answered by a gasp of Oh please and the spreading of Finn’s legs.

  
  


“This what you want sweetheart? Want me to fuck you?”

  
  


Finn nods, turning his face to look over his shoulder, eyes wide and dark, lips red and bitten, slick with spit. “Please, my King?”

  
  


Something growls hot inside of Roman at the words, and he takes the jug of oil and pours some into his hand and over Finn’s hole, watching it collect and drip down his thighs. He runs a finger over the oil slicked hole, eyes trained on Finn’s pretty face. His eyes roll as he bites his lip, and it feeds Roman’s ego, that he’s barely done anything yet and Finn’s already awash with pleasure.

  
  


“You had much attention back here, sweetheart?”

  
  


Finn squirms, pushing back into the finger. “N-no… Just once… b-but not. I didn’t, I didn’t want it.” He buries his face in the fur, like he’s ashamed, but it surges Roman with anger, though there’s a heat simmering inside him that he’s the first to touch him here in the case of Finn wanting it.

  
  


“If anyone touches you here, or anywhere, that you do not want, send them to me and I will deal with them, you hear me?”

  
  


Finn nods, and his eyes are watery and Roman’s about to stop, despite how much his cock aches to be inside of him he doesn’t want to cause the boy anymore upset, but Finn is squirming again, begging and pushing back, so Roman presses the tip of his finger inside of him, pouring more oil on as he does.

  
  


Roman fingers him open for what feels like hours, he loves the little moans and gasps that Finn makes whenever he adds more oil and pushes in deeper, when he finally slides another finger in, then a third, stretching and working him open. His cock is hard and neglected trapped in his tights, but he knows it will be worth the wait for how tight and hot Finn is. When he finally can’t take it anymore, Roman flips the boy onto his back, and he can’t help but hiss a moan at his debauched Finn looks. His lips red and bitten, forehead sweaty and the hair at his hairline sticking to it, a healthy blush spread from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck and chest. Roman wants to see that sight forever. He keeps his arms tied behind him, and he taps Finn’s wrist with a questioning look to see if he’s still okay with it, to see if he’s hurting unnecessarily. Finn responds by spreading his legs wide. An invitation Roman cannot refuse.

  
  


Roman pours more oil into his hand, pulling his cock out and spreading it liberally, hissing at his own touch as he drinks Finn in. Pale, rose tinted skin all laid out for him, just like he’d imagined. His cock is red and hard against his belly, leaking, and Roman can’t wait to see him come, screaming his name as he does.

  
  


Wrapping a hand around each of Finn’s ankles he pulls the boy to the edge of the bed so he’s flush against him, and he presses a kiss to his ankles as he teases the head of his cock into him slowly. It feels like he’s being welcomed home. Tight, slick and hot, enveloping him, pulling him in.

  
  


“You feel so good sweetheart, just like I’d imagined.”

  
  


Finn gasps, and it causes him to clench and Roman groans, hands falling to Finn’s hips. “You t-thought about me?”

  
  


Roman moves slowly, teasing and testing his thrusts as he smirks. “Since I first saw you, I told you, you drive me crazy.” He snaps his hips to drive home the point, and Finn’s body jolts deliciously.

  
  


“Oh please,” Finn gasps squirming, and he locks his ankles around Roman’s waist. “Please, your Grace, fuck me?” The forwardness, the begging, that dirty word falling from such pretty lips makes something short circuit in Roman’s brain, and the hands that are holding Finn’s hips grip so hard they’re definitely going to leave bruises.

  
  


“When my dick is inside of you, you call me by my name. You call me Roman.” He snaps his hips again, but this time there’s no teasing, he fucks into Finn hard and fast, the gold poster bed, so sturdy and strong it shifts with the force of it. Finn’s face is deliciously dirty, brow wet with sweat, mouth dropped open in a pretty ‘o’ shape, moans and Roman’s name dripping from them like the sweetest honey. Roman leans down to kiss him and swallow them down, wants to savour them, store them inside of him so he never forgets what they sound like.

  
  


It doesn’t take long for Roman to reach the edge, and he knows he has to pull out. Coming inside is reserved for your partner, your life partner, it was what he was taught by his family even though it made his cheeks burn with embarrassment every time someone told him. He didn’t even come in Seth when they were together, because he wanted to wait until they were wedded. He and Charlotte never consummated their marriage, though they had lied to everyone and told them they did. As much as his base instincts tell him to come deep inside the willing body underneath him, he knows he can’t, can’t betray his family just for a moment of pleasure.

  
  


Roman pulls his cock from inside of Finn, who whimpers at the sudden loss, but Roman slides their cocks together, the slick and oil from Finn’s hole creating that easy, mind numbingly hot friction, enough for Roman to wrap his hand around them both jerk them until they both come, Roman with a deep, guttural growl and Finn with a punched out moan. Roman’s orgasm makes his toes curl into the hard floor beneath his feet, and the sight of Finn’s cock and belly covered in both of their release is one that’s going to brand itself into Roman’s brain.

  
  


Finn lays panting against the bed, and Roman makes quick work of sliding his oily fingers around to Finn’s wrists and releasing him. The skin is slightly red, so Roman rubs both wrists gently before kissing them softly. “I’ll get a rag to clean us, stay here, sweetheart.”

  
  


He heads into the washroom and finds his slightly damp rag, and a spare clean tunic to dress Finn in. His clothes aren’t dirty, no are they ripped, but Roman wants to see Finn leave his room with not only the bruises on his hips and the limp in his walk, but wearing his clothes, too. Finn is in the same position when he comes back, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, eyes closed and eyelashes fluttering. He gently wipes over Finn’s belly, causing the boys eyes to open. “Did I tire you out?”

  
  


Finn nods with a little smile, laughing almost as Roman wipes over his stomach and cock, then down to his thighs and hole. “Do you have means to warm water in your quarters? This oil, it is better removed with warm water and soap.”

  
  


“I have water sir…”

  
  


“I will give you some soap, and get someone to warm you some water. You will be uncomfortable all day if you do not clean yourself properly.” Roman says, and he kisses Finn’s thigh before he stands and goes back to his wash room, taking a bar of soap he gets made by a woman who lives in the royal grounds.

  
  


“This is mutton fat soap, filled with lavender, if you keep using it, you will smell like me.” He offers it to Finn, who gently takes it and takes a deep breath to smell it.

  
  


“Thank you, your Grace.”

  
  


Roman helps him stand, helps him dress, and then pulls him in for a deep kiss, a hand in his damp hair, the other wrapped around his waist to keep him close.

  
  


“Will you come back soon?” Roman’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper, like it’s shameful of him to ask, like he’s begging.

  
  


“You can have me whenever you want me, your Grace, if you can answer me just one question…”

  
  


Roman crooks an eyebrow. “And what would that be, sweetheart?”

  
  


“Why… why are you treating me so nice? Why… I have given you what you wanted and I will continue to do so because I want to give it to you, you don’t need to give me your soap and your clothes…”

  
  


“Sweetheart, I give you those things because I want to. You do not have soap to clean a mess I made? I will help you. Selfishly, I want to see you wearing my clothes. I am the King, not a monster. Did you expect me to not be nice to you?”

  
  


Finn blushes, and he bites at his lip like he’s embarrassed with himself. “I’ve never… no one has ever been nice to me. I did not expect the King, so powerful, to be the one who is.”

  
  


Roman feels a sadness tug at him, and he kisses Finn again just to quell it. “Come back tomorrow night, and I will show you just how nice I can be, sweetheart.”

  
  


Finn’s eyes shine with want and need when he pulls away, and it takes a while for the both of them to let go of each other, but when they do, it’s with a promise from Finn to come back tomorrow, and another kiss before Finn is slipping out of the door and away from Roman’s quarters.

  
  
  


Roman watches him go, the slight limp in his walk and the way his hips sway softly. It’s one of the most amazing and hardest sights Roman’s ever had to watch, Finn walking away from him. And he simply can’t wait to see more of.


End file.
